


let's sneak into heaven

by norudeghosts



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, An Absolute Buffon, Anal Sex, Baseball Player Kim Seungmin, Cheating, Everyone Here Is a Fool, Infidelity, Intoxicated Sex, M/M, Mostly Good People Doing Very Stupid Things, Personal Trainer Bang Chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26688436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norudeghosts/pseuds/norudeghosts
Summary: But really, it’s like the art on the walls at his school.It’s fine to look, as long as they don’t touch.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 9
Kudos: 129
Collections: SKZ Fuckfest





	let's sneak into heaven

**Author's Note:**

> this is for prompt 22!!!
> 
> it wasn't until halfway through i realized the prompt was flexible enough to have them break up first lmao oops

“ _So you’re actually coming home this summer?_ ” Minho’s voice is staticky on the cheap school wifi, the man too close to the camera once again so Seungmin has an alarmingly clear view of his cousin’s nostrils.

Seungmin puts another set of shirts in his suitcase, careful not to wrinkle anything. “ _Technically_ I’m staying in Auntie’s hotel since my parents remodeled the house, but yeah, I’ll be home." Which is a strange thought; Seungmin doesn’t remember the last time he left Vanderbilt for anything other than an away game. He and his family have never been particularly _close_ the way some are, but they're still his family, and with his shoulder still recovering from surgery he's not going to be anything but a bench warmer until he's finished physical therapy. Still, it won't exactly be _awful_ to go back to San Francisco.

" _It'll be good to see you off this camera. Maybe then I can see if you actually got handsome or if it's just the blurriness making you look better._ "

Seungmin doesn't even look up from his packing to flip Minho off, fighting down a smile at the sound of his delighted cackle.

* * *

San Francisco and Nashville are practically two different worlds. Seungmin may like his school and love his team, but he won't deny it feels good to be _home_.

His sister picks him up from the airport, and he spends most of the drive singing along with her to whatever top forty hit the radio pumps out, or answering the usual questions- how have you been, what's new, do you have a boyfriend yet.

The last one is always awkward. He doesn’t really have _time_ to date, and even what time he does have tends to go… Poorly. Hyunjin claims he just has no taste in men. Which probably isn’t wrong, considering that’s the closest thing to an actual relationship he’s had in three years and Hyunjin’s been dating someone else the entire time. Hyunjin calls them ‘star-crossed lovers’, and his boyfriend Jisung handles the whole situation with good humor.

He’s thankfully saved from too much of an awkward situation by their arrival at their aunt’s hotel- it’s fancier than it really needs to be and a little bit ostentatious, which fits that entire part of their family _perfectly_. Aunt Seohyun has always been a bit out there, and Minho? Minho follows _exactly_ in her steps.

Before his sister even has the car turned off, his cousin has his face shoved against the passenger window, eyes bugging out a little from the pressure of the glass, and Seungmin immediately makes a face back. Somin laughs as she kills the ignition, and Minho jumps back when Seungmin almost opens the door into his knees. “Rude,” He sing-songs, face scrunching up before he starts cackling. “You’re _taller_ , Seungminnie. Stop growing.”

Minho is nearly exactly how he remembers; he thinks maybe one of the piercings in his ear is new, and his hair is a warm orange versus the chocolatey brown it was last time Seungmin visited, but the cat-like curl of his lips and the way his eyes nearly disappear with his smile are so familiar.

He barely even registers the barbs the two of them hurl back and forth as they grab his suitcases out of the trunk, Somin rolling her eyes at their immaturity as she leads them through the lobby. It’s quiet, this early on a Wednesday, only a handful of guests enjoying breakfast on the other end, and Seungmin almost feels bad for disturbing the quiet with their arrival. Almost.

Minho doesn’t even bother to wait for them to get the keycard, waltzing to the elevators and hitting the button dramatically to summon them. Seungmin at least hangs back a bit while Somin slips behind the counter, talking to a girl with soft features- ‘Yurim’, her name tag announces- who hands her a card. There’s a hint of a blush on both of their cheeks.

 _Interesting_.

Even before he can open his mouth to ask, Somin pops him on the arm with the keycard, hard enough he’s sure there will be a welt. “Don’t start.”

* * *

The suite his aunt set him up in is more like a studio apartment than a hotel room, really, but then again virtually _anything_ would be a step up from his roommate this year. Junghoon himself really isn’t too bad, but his _friends_ are an entirely different story, and the fact that no one is going to burst into his room at midnight to dye their hair is a relief.

One major downside?

The giant, glaring ‘CURRENTLY UNDER RENOVATION’ sign on the door to the hotel gym.

Seungmin frowns, staring intently at the large letters like the sign will somehow vanish if he hopes hard enough. ‘Sorry for the inconvenience’. Ugh. He knows it’s not a _huge_ deal, but it’s still annoying- finding a gym that won’t demand a long term commitment from him is going to be like pulling teeth, and he can’t just stop his training or his rehab for his shoulder.

“I figured you were here.” Minho’s voice drags him out of his head. Before he can even try to turn around, there’s weight around his shoulders, Minho leaning onto him enough to make him stumble slightly. “I forgot to tell you it was closed.”  
  
“You know I need somewhere to do my PT.” It comes out grouchier than he means it to, but Minho takes it in stride.

His cousin hums loudly in his ear, off-tune and kind of flat, and slips off his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, and because I am the best _ever_ I already made arrangements for that.” He fishes around in his back pocket for his phone, and Seungmin doesn’t hide his laugh at Minho’s custom case- all three of his cats, sprawled out over the floor of his apartment. “You know my boyfriend is a personal trainer, right?”

Oh. Huh. He’d honestly forgotten, given how surprisingly little Minho talks about his relationship. “And what does that have to do with me?”

Minho taps on his phone for a moment, then offers it out to Seungmin, his navigation app open. The screen shows an address a few blocks away, still in the obnoxiously upscale part of town. “You can go use their facilities for free. He got you a pass and everything.”

Seungmin blinks, pulling his phone out of his shorts to copy down the address. That was actually really kind of Minho, even if he wouldn’t admit it under pain of death. “I guess you’re good for something after all.”

He’s just barely fast enough to dodge the kick Minho aims at his shin.

* * *

When he gets to the address Minho gave him, Seungmin can’t help but raise his eyebrows. He’s seen a lot of training centers, but true to southern California style, this one is very ultra-modern and a full three stories of the building it’s in, based on the sign. The glass is mirrored, which is probably expensive as all hell; he doesn’t want to even _begin_ imagining the cost to have a membership here.

Normally he’s not one for nepotism, but he’ll let it slide this time.

“Seungmin?”

He glances at the door automatically at the sound of his name, and he almost does a double-take.

Okay, he knew Minho was a catch, but _goddamn_.

He’s a little shorter than Seungmin, but broad, and the tank top he’s wearing shows off the _ridiculous_ definition of his arms. Add that to a face that belongs on a model, with a jawline that could cut glass and gentle, warm eyes, and part of Seungmin’s brain immediately curses the fact that he had decided to go to school over halfway across the country if there were men who looked like _that_ out here.

Finding his tongue, he puts a smile on his face, offering his hand to shake. “Yeah, that’s me. I take it you’re Minho’s boyfriend?”

“Chan.” The man introduces himself. His hand is rough and warm in Seungmin’s, and Seungmin does _not_ miss the way his smile tightens a little at the question. “Yeah, that’s me.” As he talks more, he finds himself recognizing some kind of accent- Australian, he thinks. “It’s nice to meet you. I have your pass right here.”

He hands over a small keychain, the logo of the gym on one side and a barcode on the other. “Thank you so much for this.” Seungmin pulls his wallet out of his pocket, slipping the keychain into the billfold. He’ll have to actually put it on his keyring when he gets back to the hotel.

Chan smiles, eyes crinkling and faint dimples appearing in his cheeks, and his cousin is definitely one lucky bastard. “How about I show you around, get you used to the place?”

“Sure.”

* * *

The worst part ends up being that Chan is also _charming_. He couldn't just be handsome, oh no, he's also clever and funny and genuinely interested in what Seungmin has to say. He doesn't really _need_ a personal trainer- he has his own training regime- but Chan still stays close by. It makes the time go faster, and the strain in his shoulder not quite as unbearable. He _hates_ trying to come back from an injury like this; his ligaments keep rolling around and making it hard to brace himself properly. 

"So you blew your shoulder out?" Chan's expression is clearly sympathetic, eyeing Seungmin's shoulder like he’s trying to see the impairment through the skin.

Seungmin nods thoughtlessly, stretching his arm out in front of him. It doesn't _hurt_ , but it's uncomfortable. "Yeah. Messing with a big hard stick screws up your arms, who knew." And _then_ , of course, Seungmin’s mouth gets ahead of his brain, more concerned with the 'hot guy' part of Chan than the 'cousin's boyfriend' part. "Can't swing a bat right now, so I guess that limits me to messing with dicks."

As soon as the words leave his mouth he flinches, but Chan just laughs. "I'm sure someone as gorgeous as you doesn't have a shortage there." Before Seungmin's brain can make sense of the comment, Chan glances behind him at the clock. "I have an appointment here in just a minute I need to get ready for. It was nice to meet you, Seungmin."

Then with another warm smile and a quick squeeze to his (uninjured) shoulder, Chan's off across the gym, leaving Seungmin to stare dumbly after him.

This man. Who was dating his cousin, and related or not Seungmin can admit that Minho is stunning. This man calls _him_ gorgeous in response to him talking about dicks.

Oh, this is going to be a _very_ long summer.

* * *

Seungmin doesn't really mean to spend so much time at the gym. He _doesn't_. But Minho is always busy with something, and his handful of friends that are still in the city he just… Isn't that close to. So he finds himself at the gym more often than not during his free time. He even makes another friend there, a man named Changbin that does his best to act 'cute' at any given moment, in spite of his buff body and various tattoos. Including a godawful one of Squidward in Supreme boxers on his upper arm. The tattoo itself actually is of decent quality, but the _subject_...

Seungmin may or may not have laughed so hard he almost fell over when he first saw it. Somehow, Changbin is still proud of the damn thing.

It's late, nearly midnight, when Seungmin slips into the gym this time; ‘family time’ had kept him occupied all day, and given the late time he expects to be mostly alone. A shame, kind of, but at least he won’t get sidetracked.

There’s a handful of people scattered throughout, but the sight of Chan near the treadmills, chatting casually with a very pretty, very _intimidating_ girl in pigtails, gives him pause. It’s definitely late, and for a moment he considers not saying anything, but Chan spots him first. A quick word to the girl and he’s jogging over to Seungmin’s side with a smile. “You’re here late.”

“So are you.” Seungmin points out unthinkingly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “What _are_ your hours?”

Chan laughs, bright and warm, dimples flashing. “I’m off the clock, don’t worry. I don’t usually get my workouts in while helping other people, so I tend to come in myself later in the evening.” And Chan apparently pays more attention to him than Seungmin realizes, because he falls easily in step with him as he heads deeper into the gym. It’s quiet, even the background music turned down lower, and the lack of people makes it feel strangely liminal. Like anything that happens here doesn’t really _count_ in the real world.

It’s a dangerous thought.

“Yeah, I imagine not.” Seungmin hums, trying not to be _too_ obvious about watching Chan from the corner of his eye. Tonight’s tank top has the arm holes cut a little lower than normal, and he can see the hint of some kind of tattoo over his ribcage. He thinks it might be a compass. “I’m sure everyone wants to monopolize the hot personal trainer.”

It’s a little bit further than he should take it, but Chan takes it in stride with a laugh, cheeks and ears coloring a faint pink. “Like you are right now?” His tone is warm and teasing, which is at least reassuring that he hasn’t crossed a line with Chan. With _Minho_ , he’s less sure. But he’s been here two weeks and he can count the number of times he’s even heard them mention each other on one hand, which seems _weird_ for a relationship going on three years.

Seungmin runs his tongue over the inside of his teeth.

You never hit a ball you don’t swing at.

“You don’t seem too bothered by it. Is it cause I’m pretty?”

He sees Chan glance at him out of his peripheral vision, eyes dark and expression momentarily unreadable. For a second, he thinks that was too far, too overtly flirty. He’s played this game with Hyunjin for so long he’s not entirely sure he knows where the boundaries are supposed to be anymore.

Then Chan smiles, rising slow like the moon drifting into view through the windows. “You’re also a pleasure to talk to, but I will _never_ complain about good company in a beautiful package.”

Seungmin feels his own cheeks flush and fights down a smile. It’s a dangerous game, really, to be playing with a taken man like this. His own cousin’s boyfriend, no less.

But he won’t pretend he doesn’t like the hint of danger.

* * *

They end up talking virtually every time their paths cross, and every time he finds out a little more about Chan- that he's twenty-nine, a dog person to Minho’s cat person, originally from Australia, and the oldest of three. He’s also funny, often unintentionally, but still thoughtful.

And the flirting only seems to get more intense. He knows it isn’t really right, but Chan doesn’t seem interested in stopping either. It’s _harmless_ , as long as it’s just words. Actions are where it counts.

It’s another late night in the gym, Changbin having excused himself an hour ago for a date- that he kept being extremely cagey about, hiding his phone with each message like he was _embarrassed_ by whoever it was- while the two of them stayed behind. Even in the air-conditioning, the heat of summer is starting to creep in, and Seungmin has ditched his usual sweatpants in favor of shorts.

If they’re a little shorter and a little tighter than is really decent because he’s caught Chan looking at his thighs and ass, that’s his business.

“Okay, yeah, that’s horrible.” Normally Seungmin hates his misfortunes being laughed at, but hearing Chan’s stifled chuckles is worth the embarrassment of sharing _exactly_ what happened after that one frat party Hyunjin dragged him to. “I take it there was no repeat performance?”

Seungmin makes a face, leaning a little more on the bar above his head. The pressure hurts his shoulder a little, forcing the muscles to stretch out more than they’re used to, but it’s easy to ignore. “Oh hell no. His dick was _not_ big enough to ignore that, and the walk of shame at like three am also sucked. It was maybe twenty degrees and that shit hurts on fresh piercings.”

“Piercings?” The curiosity in Chan’s tone is palpable. Seungmin bites the tip of his tongue, mentally debating whether or not he should actually admit to it.

Fuck it.

“Yeah. Got my nipples pierced like two weeks before that. They take a while to heal.”

Chan _stares_ at him, eyes wide and dark, flicking to his chest before back up to Seungmin’s face. “Yeah. That sounds rough.” But his tone is distracted, almost thoughtless.

Seungmin bets he knows where his mind _actually_ is.

He knows, in the back of his mind, it should bother him. The way Chan looks at him. Chan’s a good eight years older and dating his _cousin_. It’s one thing for them to play their little game, exchange flirty barbs back and forth, but Seungmin can feel Chan’s eyes burning on his skin like a brand.

It bothers him more how _little_ it bothers him. Privately, in his head, he’ll admit the stare is more of an ego trip than anything; Minho is objectively beautiful, family or not, so catching the attention of his boyfriend is beyond flattering. Even if he _shouldn’t_ enjoy it. But really, it’s like the art on the walls at his school.

It’s fine to look, as long as they don’t touch.

* * *

Minho and Chan’s anniversary is right at the beginning of July. For all their flirting, Chan sounds genuinely excited to have a chance to go out with his boyfriend- his _actual_ boyfriend- for a special night. He tells Seungmin all about the dinner reservations he’s made, some fancy restaurant that they both love, and how he has a bottle of champagne waiting at his apartment after.

Then Minho calls around five.

Chan's far enough away Seungmin can't hear what Minho's saying on the other end, but he can watch the way Chan's expression tightens, brow furrowing down. "But I thought-" He pauses, Minho audibly raising his voice.

And just like that, all the tension drains out of Chan. He doesn't look relaxed, more _exhausted_ , and Seungmin kind of wants to kick his cousin's ass. "Okay." Chan practically sighs the word, rubbing at his forehead with his free hand. “Yeah, okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Another pause. Seungmin doesn’t miss the way Chan’s eyes flick his direction. “Love you too.”

“Everything okay?” The steel bar is warm from where he’s been holding on to it, a contrast to the cold air of the gym itself.

Chan forces a smile, pushing his phone back in his pocket. “Yeah, it’s fine. Minho and I were supposed to go to dinner tonight, but it sounds like he’s got other plans with the dance group he’s not willing to miss.”

The words burn on the tip of his tongue. It feels like a step too far, a move that makes their little game something too serious to back out of. A line he can’t uncross.

He does it anyway.

“Why don’t we go instead?”

* * *

The restaurant is _nice_. Like, obnoxiously nice. Seungmin feels underdressed, even in his button-down and slacks. Chan doesn’t look uncomfortable at all, following the hostess to their table with a smile and thanking her softly. He pulls the chair out for Seungmin before he can even say a word, and he tries to fight down the blush that wants to cross his cheeks. Most guys he’s fooled around with have barely even taken him on _dates_ , much less anything this nice. But Chan is still Chan, warm and easy to talk to, and the conversation flows the same as it always does.

They’re halfway through a bottle of white wine with a name Seungmin can’t pronounce, talking about Chan’s hobby of music production, when Chan suddenly cuts himself off mid-sentence, going silent as he stares past Seungmin’s shoulder at something. The expression on his face looks like he’s been punched in the chest, and something in his own guts twists. “Chan?”

Chan snaps back to himself, eyes flicking to Seungmin’s face for a moment before going back to whatever he was looking at before. “I guess that the dance team is a lot smaller than I thought.” His voice is flat, almost emotionless, but Seungmin can _see_ the hurt teeming in his eyes.

He dares to glance behind him.

Oh, fucking _hell_.

Damn, maybe Changbin’s bad ideas weren’t limited to his tattoos. Minho is practically hanging off his arm, clearly saying something teasing; he can tell from his expression, his body language, the half-lidded eyes and curl of his smile. Changbin’s face is a little flushed, but pleased, as the two of them settle down at a booth further toward the door of the restaurant.

Seungmin spins back around in his chair, any words he could even begin to say dying on his tongue at the look on Chan’s face.

He looks like his _world_ has fallen apart.

Seungmin doesn’t think twice, stopping their waiter as he passes by. “We’d like the check, please.”

* * *

Chan stays quiet the entire cab ride back to his apartment, and Seungmin doesn’t actually know what to say. What _can_ he say? ‘Sorry my cousin is kind of a dickbag and cheating on you?’ It feels hollow, even in his own mind.

“Do you want to come up for a drink?” Chan’s voice is soft when he asks, the cab idling for a moment as he fishes out the money to pay. The streetlamps and headlights interplay across his face, casting colors across his skin like a work of art.

He knows Chan’s hurting, probably not thinking straight. Even with their little flirtations, he’s never made a _real_ move on Seungmin.

“Sure.”

* * *

Their conversation stays light and casual in spite of everything. Chan pops open the champagne, pouring them each a glass, and they end up wandering out onto the balcony as they talk. There’s still something dark hiding in his gaze, but it’s softened from the alcohol and the city lights.

“It’s so beautiful out here. I miss it when I’m at school,” Seungmin admits, letting his eyes trail over the lights outlining the skyline. He can barely see the ocean, warping and reflecting the sky above so perfectly it looks black. “Nashville is nice, but it’s not home.”

“I get the feeling. I miss Sydney like that sometimes.” Chan’s voice is nearly in his ear when he speaks, and when Seungmin turns his head Chan is _right_ there.

Seungmin knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t have suggested dinner, shouldn’t have let Chan invite him for a night cap, shouldn’t have _agreed_. But Chan is so close he can feel the heat from his body through the chill of the night air, and there’s enough alcohol in his system that _shouldn’t_ feels more like a suggestion.

He doesn’t know which one of them actually moves first. Just that the next moment Chan’s mouth is on his, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips, warm hands grabbing onto his waist with enough pressure to bruise.

Part of his brain is worried about knocking the glass off the edge of Chan’s balcony, but the other man is tugging him away from the rail, grip tightening as he pulls Seungmin flush to his body. Without thinking, he wraps his arms around Chan’s neck, trying to eliminate the last bit of space between them.

Chan’s hands slide down his sides, fingers trailing over his hips, wrinkling the fabric of his pants as they squeeze at his thighs. Then they’re curving around the backs of his legs and scooping him up, Chan hefting him into his arms like he weighs nothing in spite of their height difference, and Seungmin is helpless against the shock of arousal that sends through him.

Their kiss turns messier, sloppier, a clash of teeth and tongues. Seungmin barely even registers the fact that Chan is moving them, carrying him somewhere, too caught up in the feel and taste of this forbidden fruit.

But some little part of his brain, the one that still remembers all the bible lessons his grandparents dragged him to, feels like that’s just how humans _are_. Resisting temptation has never been their strong suit.

The bed bounces a little under them when Chan sits down, jostling Seungmin in his arms, the motion just enough to break their lips apart.

There's a second where they just stare at each other, panting into the space between them.

Chan's eyes are dark, practically black in the dim light, and the sight sends a shiver down Seungmin's spine. His grip around Chan's neck tightens as he feels a hand move up from his hips, slipping under his shirt to grip his waist again. Without the barrier of the fabric, Chan's hand is _so_ warm against his skin.

Then their mouths meet again, Chan’s tongue slipping between his teeth, and he pins it there for a second, sucks _hard_ in an imitation of what else he could do. Chan makes a sound into his mouth, then there are hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. Seungmin doesn’t resist at all, letting Chan break their kiss again to trail down to his neck as he slips the shirt off Seungmin’s torso, drops it to the ground.

There's a brief moment where it sinks in, _exactly_ what he's doing and with who. But Chan's lips are pressed tight to his neck, skin almost burning hot against his own, and he _wants_ this. This close together, wine thrumming in his veins, the city lights spilling into the dark room through closed blinds, it's too easy to pretend that what they're doing isn't wrong.

Chan pulls his hips down harder, grinds their cocks together, and Seungmin can’t help the whine that leaves his throat. His own hands slide down to Chan’s shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his shirt until his brain reactivates enough to remember buttons are a _thing_.

He’d be embarrassed, under most circumstances, about how easily Chan is riling him up, how simple it is for the older man to make his brain just _stop_. But right here, right now, it just feels like how it should be. Like something in the universe has corrected itself, bringing him here into Chan’s arms.

The tattoo _is_ a compass. It’s part of something much larger, something delicate and sprawling over his ribs and onto his back, but in the low light Seungmin can’t make out much more than the shadows. He wants to press his mouth to the skin, try to taste the ink under his tongue.

Chan sidetracks him from the thought, teeth scraping over the hollow of his throat as one hand finds his left piercing. “These are cute,” Chan murmurs against his neck, thumb brushing over the delicate jewel hanging from the outside of his piercing. Seungmin’s eyes flutter at the small tug, the feeling of Chan’s lips over his jugular.

“I like cute things sometimes.” 

The mattress is soft under his back when Chan pulls them down and rolls on top of him, a tangled mess of limbs and heat. It’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins like this, and Chan pauses to press another, softer kiss to Seungmin’s lips. “It suits you.”

He’s not entirely sure which of them strips first, only that the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor is almost deafening in the quiet. He can feel Chan’s erection against his hip, hot and heavy, and he reaches between them to wrap his hand around it, swiping his thumbs over the tip to gather some of the precum starting to pool there. Chan sighs at the contact, soft and deep right by his ear.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” The question makes Seungmin’s back arch just a little, the thought alone enough to make him _ache_. Chan chuckles softly, catching the lobe of his ear between his teeth briefly. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” Seungmin gasps out into the dark. “Yes, please.”

Chan shifts above him, fumbling in the drawer of his bedside table for a moment before dropping something on the bed beside them. A quick glance, his eyes adjusting to the dark, shows it’s a condom and a half-empty bottle of lube. The other half was probably used with Minho. His cousin. Chan’s _actual_ boyfriend. Guilt stabs in Seungmin’s stomach for a moment.

Then he thinks about the way Minho was hanging off Changbin’s arm, and the guilt dissipates.

Leaning back to settle on his knees, Chan runs one hand over Seungmin’s thigh, nudging his legs apart with gentle touches while he snaps open the cap of the lube. Then Chan’s hand is between his legs, slick fingers pressing against his hole, and Seungmin exhales.

The first finger is still fairly easy; even if it's been a while since Seungmin has been actually fucked, he's fooled around enough on his own with his toys. Two fingers is a little more of a stretch, but Chan seems determined to see just how far he can push to get a reaction. Although he isn’t exactly _rough_ , he isn’t gentle either, opening Seungmin up with sharp movements.

Chan curls his fingers, pressing them hard against Seungmin’s prostate, and he barely stops himself from yelping. Even in the dark, he can make out the curve of Chan’s lips, the amused crinkle of his eyes, and he pulls the other down to kiss it off him.

Three fingers slip inside him with little resistance, and he can feel Chan’s cock leaking against his thigh. Without thinking, he moves his hand between them to loosely fist it, reveling in the sharp inhale Chan takes at the contact. “Please?” His voice nearly cracks on the word, and that seems to be enough.

He mourns the loss of touch for a split second as Chan pulls his fingers out and sits back, but the sight of him tearing open the condom wrapper with his teeth more than makes up for it. It's more instinct than thought when Seungmin spreads his legs wider, ignoring the twinge of pain in favor of watching Chan slick himself up with the extra lube left on his fingers. The first touch of Chan's dick against his rim makes him shiver, nodding encouragingly when the other pauses.

Under different circumstances- if he were more sober, if this was perhaps a normal one night stand and not the resolution of weeks of tension with someone he shouldn't want- he'd be embarrassed by the moan that leaves him. Instead, he barely even notices it, letting his head tip back against the pillows as Chan settles partway inside him. Chan's clean hand comes up to tip his head back down, the touch feather-light, and before Seungmin can even react he thrusts gently, pressing himself just a little further into Seungmin.

The rolls of his hips stay slow at first, just enough force behind them to push a little deeper each time until their hips finally sit flush. Chan is _big_ , bigger than his usual toy and definitely bigger than his last boyfriend, but the faint burn of the stretch somehow just makes it better.

Shifting back a little more, Chan hooks one of Seungmin's legs over his arm, other hand drifting to play with one of his nipple piercings as he begins to move. This angle is already good, Chan rubbing against his prostate every thrust, but when he pulls Seungmin's leg just a little more, coaxes him to spread himself just that much more, Seungmin can’t help the cry that leaves his lips.

The sound of skin on skin and the wet noise of the lube takes over the room, punctuated by his breathy moans and Chan's own grunts. Summer in California is always hot, and even in the air conditioning he can see the sweat forming on Chan's skin. He wants to taste it.

And maybe he said that out loud, because Chan laughs breathlessly, pulling Seungmin back to meet a particularly hard thrust. His eyes flutter shut, back arching as Chan trails a hand up and lightly, teasing, presses over his throat.

Chan squeezes his jaw just a little bit, enough to make Seungmin open his eyes again and focus on the man above him. Dropping down to press their foreheads together, Chan catches him in a slow kiss, pausing his thrusts to _grind_ against his prostate. The whine it drags out of him sounds pathetic to his ears, but Chan sucks in a sharp breath. "You're so pretty, baby," he murmurs, and they're _so_ close. Seungmin's hips ache faintly from the position, from being held open so far to accommodate Chan between his thighs, but that's secondary to the pleasure.

It feels _intimate_ , like this, and it's too easy to get lost in.

He knows his eyes are fluttering again, his own soft sounds deafening loud in the quiet, but the inferno in his body being stoked by every thrust only burns hotter. “Close- _ah-_ close.”

The words make Chan shift away from him again, sliding his hand under Seungmin's other thigh, and Seungmin gasps loudly at the change. It’s not much, but combined with the way Chan speeds up, the force of his thrusts enough to rock the bedframe into the wall, it sends stars bursting behind his eyelids.

Seungmin’s honestly not sure which of them comes first; just that Chan’s groan as he presses in deep, and stays there, is one of the loveliest sounds he’s ever heard.

* * *

The clock by Chan’s bed glows, display showing 1:06AM.

Hints of light trail through the blinds, casting shadows across Chan’s sleeping face, and in the quiet Seungmin’s stomach _twists_. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the realization settling in, but mostly?

Mostly it’s the fact he doesn’t regret it.

Chan talks about his insomnia regularly, so seeing him like this, actually _resting_ , sets something fluttering in his chest. He still knows it’s wrong, how _right_ it feels to be here, and Seungmin slips out of bed as quietly as he can. Snagging his phone out of his pant pocket, he slips into the bathroom, already dialing before he even shuts the door.

It’s even later there, he knows it is, but Hyunjin still picks up the phone. “ _Minnie?_ ” His voice is sleep-thick, audibly confused. It’s not like Seungmin normally calls him in the middle of the night.

Just the sound of his best friend’s voice is enough to make Seungmin choke up, clutching tighter at the phone, and he must make some kind of noise because suddenly Hyunjin sounds much more awake. “ _Minnie? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need me to call the police? I still have that app-_ ”

“No, I’m okay,” Seungmin hates how weak his voice is, the tremor going through it. Hyunjin immediately falls silent, clearly waiting for Seungmin to tell him what’s going on, and the words feel like bile in his throat. “Jinnie, I fucked up.”

If he listens closely, he can hear the faint murmuring of Hyunjin’s boyfriend on the other line, probably trying to figure out what’s going on. Hyunjin shushes him, fabric rustling as he presumably gets out of bed. “ _What’s wrong? How can I help?_ ”

God, he doesn’t deserve Hyunjin.

Seungmin stares up at the light fixture in the bathroom, blinking away tears. The guilt sits in his stomach like a stone. “Remember how Minho keeps having problems with his boyfriend?”

“ _His hot gym trainer boyfriend that should probably dump his ass, yeah._ ”

Seungmin breathes out a laugh in spite of himself at the tone Hyunjin uses. “Yeah. I’m… Kind of one of those problems now.”

“ _Huh?_ ”

The idea of admitting this to _anyone_ , even Hyunjin, is sending his anxiety through the roof, and Seungmin bites at his lower lip. It’s still a little swollen and kiss-bruised, yet another reminder of the man sleeping on the other side of the door. “You know how we flirt all the time? And it’s not a big deal because Jisung gets it?” He’s stalling, he knows he is, but he can’t help it.

He can practically hear the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head even across the phone. “ _What, did you say something flirty and Minho got pissed?_ ”

“Minho hasn’t even been around to see anything,” Seungmin mutters before he catches himself, and he winces. “It’s a little deeper than that.”

A pause. Then, “ _Minnie, you’re being confusing again._ ”

Seungmin takes a deep breath. Hyunjin won’t hate him. He won’t.

Right?

“I’m sort of. Calling you from his bathroom. While he’s asleep.”

There’s a solid beat where Hyunjin processes the information. Then he practically shrieks in Seungmin’s ear, loudly enough Seungmin yanks the phone away for a moment. “ _Oh my_ **_god_ ** _, did you fuck your cousin’s boyfriend?!_ ”

It’s even worse said that plainly. “...Yes?”

“ _Oh my god, Minnie,_ ” Hyunjin pauses again. “ _Okay so like- was he good? I know Minho was bitching but-_ ”

“ _Hyunjin!_ ” Seungmin barely manages to keep his volume down, hissing into the phone as Hyunjin starts cracking up on the other side. “This is a big deal, stop laughing!”

“ _Of course it’s a big deal! My Minnie better not be a home wrecker for some mediocre dick!_ ”

“I call you having a mental breakdown over this, and you’re laughing at me.” Seungmin knows he’s pouting, but it seems to have absolutely no effect on Hyunjin, who just keeps giggling hysterically on the other end of the line.

“ _Sorry_ ,” Hyunjin offers, sounding not at all apologetic through his laughter. “ _You didn’t answer my question!_ ”

Seungmin bites his lip, letting his head fall back against the door with a quiet thud. “I have _absolutely_ no idea why Minho was bitching. That was one of the better fucks I’ve ever had.”

Hyunjin shrieks delightedly, loud enough it kind of hurts his ear, and Seungmin pulls the phone away again. As fucked up as this whole situation is, of course Hyunjin makes him feel better.

They still need to talk in the morning, but… He feels a little bit more like the world isn’t going to end.

* * *

In spite of his misgivings, he slips right back into bed beside Chan when he gets off the phone, burying his face in the warmth between his shoulder blades.

Chan wakes him up with lazy kisses to his neck, soft and warm, and for a moment Seungmin lets his eyes stay closed. Lets himself pretend this is something he’s allowed. “Good morning,” he whispers into the quiet, feeling Chan hum an acknowledgement into his skin.

“Hungry?” Seungmin nods despite himself, letting Chan trail kisses up his jaw before catching his mouth in a slow, languid motion. He _should_ be bothered by their morning breath, but the only thing that really sticks with him is how right this feels, no matter how wrong it really is. “Eggs okay?”

When he nods, Chan presses one last kiss to his lips before sliding out of bed. In the morning light filtering through the blinds, he lets himself admire the definition of Chan’s back, the delicate clockwork-esque tattoo covering the skin stretching as he pulls his boxers back on. He wants to ask what it means, when Chan got it, why- a million little details to fit together a complete picture.

Instead, he drags himself out from the covers after Chan, fishing his own underwear off the floor to follow after the older man. He doesn’t know where anything is, so he sits down on one of the barstools by the counter, watching Chan collect everything he needs to make their breakfast. It’s strangely awkward, the only sound the gentle scraping of pans and utensils.

“Do you regret it?”

Chan keeps his voice surprisingly even for how loaded a question it is. It almost sounds like he’s asking about the weather, or what Seungmin plans to do for the day. “How are you so _calm_ about this?” He wonders out loud, eyes still fixed on the countertop in front of him. “This whole situation is so fucked.”

“Seungmin.” He doesn’t notice Chan stepping over to him, not until his hands are gently turning the chair he's perched on towards the voice, and he instinctively looks up. His expression is serious, and for all Seungmin wants to look away he finds himself trapped in that stare. “Do you regret it?”

He should. Seungmin _knows_ he should. This is his cousin’s boyfriend of three years. He’s on the verge of fucking up not just his own life, but at least two more.

But with Chan this close, watching him this earnestly, he can’t make himself lie. His tongue feels heavy with the admission. “...No.”

Chan smiles, warm and sweet, dimples showing. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> twt: @norudeghosts


End file.
